


The Fault in Our Dreams

by jackoconnell



Category: The Fault in Our Stars - John Green
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2015-03-18
Packaged: 2018-03-18 13:07:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3570740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackoconnell/pseuds/jackoconnell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hazel Grace Lancaster wakes up, the lingering memory of a boy with an unlit cigarette dangling from the corner of his lips trailing behind. Who's Augustus Waters and why does he leave such an impression on the 16-year-old? </p><p>This is basically a sort of sequel to TFIOS. The entire thing was a dream that Hazel had and when she wakes up, everything starts to unravel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fault in Our Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Ahh I don't know what this is. I was having some major TFIOS feels so I thought why not?? Tell me what you think please and if I should continue.
> 
> *I know very little about the medical stuff so I'll try not to include them as much as possible. Also, if I get something wrong, please let me know so I can correct it!
> 
> **I'm following the book's plot & some of the movie but mostly the book so if some things differ from the movie, it's because the book is my guidance.

> _I do, Augustus._
> 
> _I do_

 

Hazel Grace Lancaster woke with a start, her heart beating a mile a minute and her palms sweaty beneath her covers. She felt a deep emptiness in her chest – an emptiness that kept expanding, reaching the extremities of her being and suffocating her. Her hand slipped from underneath the warmth of her covers and came to rest on her aching chest, a look of discomfort taking over Hazel’s features. She attempted a weak cry but nothing came out, the strangling ache lodged deep in her throat.

Hazel touched her nose but her mask was in place and _Philip_ , her oxygen concentrator, was functioning properly, the rumbling and whirring of it filling the room. Despite the normalcy of the otherwise tranquil morning, the aching in her chest persisted and Hazel thought about dismissing it, concluding it as one of her symptoms, but then her heart did a sort of somersault and she remembered.

The hazy events of her dream came rushing – _Augustus Waters_. _Van Houten_. _Amsterdam_. _Anne Frank’s House_. _The Funeral_. Hazel’s chest felt hallow, as if a crucial part of her was missing and the 16-year-old had no idea what it all meant. Her heart did another somersault, this one knocking her breath out of her in one quick loud exhale.

“Hazel?” Her mother called out, her feet dragging across the floor and Hazel decided against calling back and sending her mom on her way, knowing her mother was set on looking in on her. “What’s the matter, Hazel? Are you in pain?” She sat on the edge of her daughter’s bed and placed a delicate hand on her cheek, brushing her short hair from her round face with the other.

“I’m okay, Mom. Really. Just out of breath.” Hazel pushed her mom’s hand from her face and sat up, her back resting against the headboard. There was a sudden movement to her right as her mother busied herself with inspecting the BiPAP and Hazel took the time to think about her dream. There was nothing wrong with the machine and she probably had less than two minutes to go over the never-ending events that took place in her dream.

_Who’s Augustus Waters?_

That was the first question that filled her mind with doubt. The question was followed by a flutter of her heart – so minuscule but so powerful. It brought along with it _Mahogany hair, a lopsided smile, an unlit cigarette…_

“Hazel?” Her mom’s face was creased in worry, her blonde hair resembling a bird’s nest on top of her head. Hazel smiled at her reassuringly, despite the haunting feelings that swiveled inside of her. It felt like her heart had been ripped apart, forcefully reattached, shattered, and then half-mended. As if someone had been in the process of fixing her but ventured off halfway through, never finishing. “Breakfast?”

“I’ll be down in a few minutes.” She hoped the smile she gave her mom was convincing enough and when she reluctantly left, her presence lingering in the room long after she did, Hazel sank back into her pillows, a feeling of desperation clinging on to her. “What does this all mean?” She breathed out quietly. “Who are you?”


End file.
